Category Archives: Op-eds

Social distancing in the House of Commons

Yesterday the House of Commons reconvened after the Easter recess. It agreed an unprecedented motion (Hybrid scrutiny proceedings) so it could carry on meeting through the pandemic, offering MPs the option of joining the debates remotely. Today they have been discussing options for remote voting.

In fact, select committees have been holding virtual meetings all month, without any security problems reported.

During the debate yesterday Jacob Rees Mogg said:

In 1349, when the black death affected this country, Parliament could not and did not sit; the Session was cancelled. Thanks to modern technology, even I have moved on from 1349, and I am glad to say that we can sit to carry out these fundamental constitutional functions.

Which reminds me that MPs in the chamber will observe social distancing rules using the length of one reclining Rees Mogg as a handy measure.

The term ‘hybrid’ refers to the fact that some MPs – around 50 at a time – will still be present in the House, while others will join it remotely using Zoom or similar.

Really? Zoom? The motion does not specify the conferencing system that will be used but there is a widespread assumption that it will be Zoom. In parallel, Microsoft Teams is being trialled by the House of Lords.

When we are all finally released back into the big world the waiting lists for hairdressing appointments will be longer than those for delivery slots at Waitrose.

Yes, before anyone reminds me, I know this is a first world problem. But nevertheless regular attention to our hair is a great comfort. My own hairdresser has installed therapy chairs so I get a massage as my hair is being washed – it’s bliss, and a pure moment of me-time.

As you can see from my profile photo I don’t dye my hair. I have no problem at all with those who do, but I decided years ago that I would see if I could produce pure white hair like my grandmother’s – hers was gorgeous and silky – and I am very happy that mine is now like hers. But many of you who do colour your hair are now in a predicament. Do you risk trying it at home, or letting your partner do it? And can you even get hold of hair dye?

A friend has said that she now looks like a skunk. I think maybe a badger would be a better analogy, and at least they don’t stink.

I love Orkney. I’ve only visited it three times and would love to go more often but it is a bit of a trek to get there from London. But these days I get a lot of pleasure from exploring it again online and in my imagination.

The first time we went to Orkney we drove the full distance from London to Scrabster on the northern coast of mainland Scotland, near John O’Groats. We took several days to get there, stopping off for a break in Inverness. The ferry trip from Scrabster to Stromness was beautiful, as we passed the Old Man of Hoy surrounded by arctic terns. We stayed in an ancient cottage tucked away in the steep lanes of Stromness.

Returning a week later was a different story.  The ferry was very late leaving and then took a long detour through the protected Scapa Flow before attempting to cross the notorious Pentland Firth in a heavy storm. That was the worst sea journey of my life. I was terrified. I now understand why the Firth is such an important sea defence.

I said I would never again try the sea crossing, so on the last two occasions we have flown from one of the Scottish airports. I don’t know how Alistair Carmichael manages his weekly commute in happier times, as it can’t be done in one hop from London. On one of our visits we popped in to his constituency office which is behind St Magnus Cathedral in Kirkwall.

So why do I love the place? It is totally different from the rest of Scotland, geographically and culturally – indeed, its heritage is more Viking than Scottish. There are no forests – in fact, no trees at all on the main island (simply known as Mainland) or on most of the outlying islands. There are no mountains, no heather, no steep sided lochs. But there are huge horizons, gentle hills, amazing birds and the wind, always the wind.

I’ve hardly worn shoes now for 5 weeks. I normally go around in bare feet or socks indoors, and I have only needed to put shoes on to go in the garden.

Like most people I’m also wearing my most comfortable clothes at home so some of my smarter things haven’t come out of my wardrobe at all. I’ve not bought a single item of clothing, I haven’t worn any makeup, and I have avoided all those impulse buys that attract me when I am out shopping.

On top of that we haven’t been out to the cinema, theatre or to a concert, we haven’t eaten out and we haven’t visited anywhere that charges an admission.

So I guess that when we eventually come out of this (and as vulnerable people that means in at least three month’s time) we will have made some significant savings. I feel a bit guilty about that, to be honest, because I know that many people are finding things really tough financially under lockdown.

Memories of our last holiday

So the Government is getting worried that people are making plans for a summer holiday this year. I have long ago given up any hope of having one.

We had planned a rather special holiday in July this year which would have included a visit to the Passion Play at Oberammergau. As I mentioned in an earlier diary the play has been postponed for two years. The deep irony is that the play is performed every ten years as a thanksgiving for being spared the plague nearly 400 years ago.

We are also hoping to go to Canada later in the year to visit my brother who lives near another Kingston, in Ontario. Then we heard the delightful news that his eldest daughter is getting married in the Autumn so the idea is to share that occasion with all our Canadian relatives. My niece is still hoping to go ahead with the wedding, but at the moment we really don’t know whether we will be able to fly again or not.

We have also had to put on hold any trips to Northern Ireland to see my older son and his wife who live in Coleraine. They had booked to stay with us this week and we would probably have all met up again later in the summer. Instead, we have been Skyping with them on a daily basis, especially when my son developed coronavirus – fortunately he was over the main symptoms in a week, although it left him exhausted.

My very first isolation diary on 16th March was titled Paying the Newsagent. That was followed by Going for a walk and Doing the shopping. A pattern was emerging, and I love patterns, so I have started each title with a present participle ever since.

My fascination with patterns fuelled my interest in the English language, Maths, Philosophy and eventually Computer Science. When I took O level English Language I always attempted the optional questions in analysis (ie grammar) because I knew I could get them right, whereas other questions had more subjective elements to them.

At various times in my life I have been fascinated by the patterns to be found in the tessellations within Escher’s paintings (I used one to illustrate this diary), in the repetitive elements of Bach chorales and in the elliptical thinking of the logician Kurt Gödel. So it is perhaps not surprising that I loved Douglas Hofstadter’s book Gödel, Escher, Bach: An Eternal Golden Braid, when it came out in 1979. The problem now is that I can’t find my copy of it. I must have lent it to someone – at the time I was recommending it to anyone who I thought might enjoy reading it. (Before anyone kindly offers to send me their unwanted copy I have now ordered it again.)

What I do remember is that the book was not an appreciation of the three creative people in the title, or even an assessment of their greatest works. Apparently, it can be found categorised in bookshops and libraries variously under maths, general science, philosophy, cognitive science, religion and the occult (the last two don’t quite hack it). So what is it about?